<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>brave day sinking in endless night by Mia_Zeklos</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30048873">brave day sinking in endless night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos'>Mia_Zeklos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abduction, Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Rescue, or at least canon-typical plots related to it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:34:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30048873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>During a botched mission, Cara is captured. Din comes to the rescue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Cara Dune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>brave day sinking in endless night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandalorianess/gifts">Mandalorianess</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vqsjwj5vN4">here</a>. Based on <a href="https://mandalorianess.tumblr.com/post/644923605888729088/this-is-for-you-littlejoregal-and">this lovely fan art</a> by Mandalorianess over on tumblr. Hope you enjoy it! &lt;33</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s funny, Cara thinks – not for the first time in her life, though it might be the last – how even pain grows dull after a while.</p><p>When she’d first been handcuffed, the crackling force field closing around her wrists burning a little as it had settled, it had been pushing at even her pain threshold with how incessant and insistent it had turned out to be. The fact that she’d then been left hanging on the chains coming down from the ceiling had not helped, what with her body being pulled tight like a string until even trying to hold on to the chain in question had become exhausting and eventually, she had resigned herself to the fact that help would be unlikely to come.</p><p>Looking back, the numbness had arrived somewhere around that point. Looking back, it should have <em>terrified</em> her.</p><p>There’s life to be found in pain. If everything that had happened to her until now had taught her anything at all, it had been this – <em>as long as there is pain, there is life</em>. Someone had told her as much once, when she had been so gravely injured that she had thought death an inevitability, and she had never forgotten. Pain had always been grounding, in a way; the only proof needed of existence persevering even when the majority of her other senses had dulled after a particularly damaging mission. Now, that’s nowhere to be found either.</p><p>She hadn’t felt her wrists in a while. Or her hands, for that matter, though given the lack of circulation, that isn’t particularly surprising. Her arms are tired, but not hurting; not anymore. Not much hurts, really, apart from the constant, stinging pressure from the wound in her side. Back when it had happened, it had felt like little more than a scratch; nothing compared to the injuries she’d got over the years. It had only been when her captors had chained her to the ceiling and had refused to treat it that it had started taking a turn for the worst as the hours had stretched on. At first, she had occupied herself with raging at the fact that she’d been outnumbered, at the realisation that she might not be able to get out on her own. Eventually, that had left, too.</p><p>There’s really no knowing if help is coming; that has to be the worst part of it. For all she knows, she might be dead to the world by now. The idea of her partner in crime giving up quite so quickly doesn’t really fit with the image of him that she’s so carefully built in her mind, but he might have lost hope so far. Who could tell what they’d told him? Not <em>her</em>, certainly, in the ridiculously isolated room she’d been placed in. He might be here any moment. He might never return. The more time passes, the less she seems to care which one it is as indifference carefully wraps around every aspect of her, forming the kind of protective cocoon she had always dreaded when at a disadvantage. Indifference means death. She repeats it to herself again and again as time goes on and the world grows even more difficult to discern through her body’s overworked senses, but it’s no use – the world grows blurry around the edges as exhaustion takes over and it almost doesn’t matter anymore.</p><p>Almost.</p><p>“Cara?” The voice calling out to her sounds like she’s deep underwater, clawing her way to the surface. It’s not the vocoder’s fault this time – an instant later, she hears the helmet come undone, as if he thinks she might need some assistance he can’t offer her as he is. <em>He</em>? There’s a memory floating up alongside her, muddy and dimmed, as arms wrap around her. The chains pull dangerously at her wrists and she winces, pain shooting through her, shocking and revitalising. “Cara, we need to go.”</p><p><em>There’s nowhere to go</em>. She’d been so convinced of it already, and plus, “Go where?”</p><p>“Back to the ship.” A slew of curses follows, bitter and frustrated, and Cara feels herself fall forward into waiting arms. Her legs feel entirely useless and there’s a faint relief chasing after the paralysing fear that the lack of control over her own body brings when the ground disappears from under her feet and she’s scooped up into an embrace she can’t – doesn’t want to – resist. “It’s all right. It’s over now.” She’s not sure who he’s trying to convince – himself or her – and the results aren’t quite up to par, but they’ll have to do. How long had she been here, for him to be so scared? It’s difficult to tell through the fog of sleep and food deprivation and in the end, Cara gives it up. Plenty of time for that later.</p><p>There are fingers clasped reassuringly around her bicep where he’s holding her curled into his arms, the arm under her knees pulling her even closer to him as if he’s afraid to let go. She’s so, so tired and the world feels too dark for words, but, “Mando?”</p><p>“Yes?” She doesn’t answer, content to repeat his name again – a reassurance for them both that they’re here. <em>It’s over now</em>. It sounds simple in a way few things in their life ever are, but she’s willing to let it slide for the time being. The sound of his relieved, short quiver of a laugh is proof enough that he feels the same way, and she opens her eyes, blinking away the fog creeping at the edges to examine their surroundings – a sudden burst of sunlight as they leave the building, enough to make her squint, and the sharp, familiar shine of beskar in her immediate vision. The ship must be close. She’s either somehow managed to cheat her way into the good half of the afterlife, or this is real. Thankfully, he doesn’t let her ponder that for too long. “I’m here, Cara.”</p><p>This is it – the answer she had been casting out for, hoping for any port in the storm, and it’s enough. More than that, even – it’s <em>perfect.</em></p><p>Finally, she sleeps.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>